


Turn away and slam the door

by BarbaraKaterina



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Lady Loki, M/M, Pre-Iron Man 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 15:14:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20438123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarbaraKaterina/pseuds/BarbaraKaterina
Summary: Asgard frequently gets on Loki's nerves.Sometimes, it gets on Loki's nerves so much he justhas to get away.Midgard is just there, and convenient, and all around just a wonderful distraction.





	Turn away and slam the door

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Batwynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batwynn/gifts).

> This was written for the FrostIron Fandom Gift Exchange, for Batwynn, who asked for "Loki from Thor 1 or before stumbling upon Tony at some convention/Stark tech meet and greet or something in his past before he became Iron Man and then having a conversation or getting along weirdly well before Loki has to pop back to Asgard". It resonated with an idea I've had in my head for ages (and written the alternate POV of for Christmas), so here we are.

Loki had, once again, had enough of Asgard.

It happened at regular intervals – about once every few months, to be honest, when it all got to be too much and he needed an escape. 

His life had gotten infinitely easier when he first learned how to travel between worlds on his own and stopped needing Heimdall's, and consequently his father's, permission.

As Loki stalked out of the palace, he considered where to go. Alfheim was his favourite location, but he had been there recently, and he would not wish to become too predictable. Besides, Alfheim was also the first place Thor would look for him, and he truly did not wish to see his brother now.

Hiding himself from Heimdall was a very useful skill as well.

Alfheim being out of the picture, Loki's mind turned to Midgard. He hadn't visited it for quite some time, and with how ever-changing the realm was, it was sure to hold some interesting surprises for him.

Decided, he teleported to the hidden passage, and then with another step, he was through, conjuring an illusion of respectable Midgardian clothes.

As always, he emerged in a humid forest, and spent a moment in contemplation before he managed to sufficiently recall the place he wanted to teleport to.

He liked the city. He liked the unique way it managed to combine chaos and order into one flawless system. The numbered streets at right angles, and yet the bustle of people in the streets, the lights, the many different sorts one could meet there. It was colourful. It was diverse. It was, in all ways, different from Asgard, which was just what he needed.

Also, there was always – always – something to do, something to distract him, which was also what he needed.

He walked in the streets, watching the theatres and cinemas and parties and trying to choose what suited his mood best, when he came across a line of what he recognized as luxurious cars stopping at the curb of one particularly tall building, people in exquisite dresses stepping out.

Yes, he decided, after the disastrous wilderness campaign with Thor, this was exactly what he wanted.

A gala, he believed the Midgardians called it. A bit like, but at the same time entirely unlike, an Asgardian ball.

He adjusted his illusion of clothing to fit the standard, made himself invisible to get past the door, and he was in.

He was just about ready to reveal himself again when he noted a woman that looked particularly stunning and suddenly felt the need to do something a little bit different.

He found a bathroom to get himself a mirror, and when he showed himself, it was in a different form that the one in which he had travelled to this world.

Or, he supposed, she had.

As she worked on her appearance in front of the mirror, she realized this was, in fact, part of the reason why she had been so restless in Asgard. Thor had certainly played a part, but she had needed...this.

She did, from time to time, but it was sometimes difficult to realize, surrounded by the masculine culture of Asgard, what was it that was causing her discomfort. Somehow, the very place made it impossible to think in anything but binary choices, and made the mere idea of doubting her masculinity in any way seem dangerous.

Well, it was dangerous – she had enough experience with that – but at least inside her own head, she was safe. She should be safe. She must not let them get there, at least.

She shook herself. She was here for a distraction, and a distraction she would find.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, she was the most stunning woman at the party, and people certainly took note. The weight of the gazes on her was almost physical, and she walked with her head held high, soaking it all in, the admiration and the jealousy, both equally sweet to her.

For a while, it was just what she needed, but then, as was usually the case, she needed more – more attention, more validation, just...more.

Fortunately, it was just then that she entered the room with the bar and came across the man who made his interest known the most plainly, and with the most confidence.

Almost as soon as she came in, he was by her side with a glass of champagne. “It's cheap swill,” he said as he handed her the glass, “but if you're interested, I have better in my suite.”

Loki gave him an amused look. “You certainly don't go slow, do you?”

“Honey, if I don't make a move immediately, someone else is gonna snatch you,” he replied with a shrug and a grin.

“I am not as easy to snatch as you seem to believe,” she pointed out, taking a sip. He was right, it really was cheap swill.

“Well, you're still talking to me, so at the very least you clearly weren't offended,” he pointed out.

“Not at all,” she assured him. “In that sense, I'm easy enough. But I do, in fact, have some discernment of my own, and do not just get passively snatched by the first man to step my way.”

“Worse luck for me, then,” the man said with another shrug and good humour. “If I can't interest you in good champagne, what would do the trick?”

Loki gave him a slow once-over. He was good looking, charming enough, pleasingly bold, and seemed respectful in his own way. There was at least a chance he wouldn't just rut for five minutes and then roll off to sleep. And she was in no mood to wait. The wilderness trip had left her feeling like her skin fitted her ill, and while most of that was solved by taking on the feminine form, some of the restlessness remained, and she knew perfectly well what would help chase it away.

“Actually,” she said, “the champagne sounds great.”

The man grinned. “Awesome.”

He offered her his arm, and the moment she took it, was leading her out of the room.

“Mr. Stark!” Someone called after them. “Mr. Stark, we need you for the awards ceremony-”

The man – Stark, apparently – waved his hand without interest. “I'm sure you can find someone else for it,” he said, and they walked to the elevator.

Loki was rather flattered by the fact that she apparently got ‘snatched’ by one of the more important people present, whether he was meant to give or receive the award. One some level, she of course knew they were all insignificant mortals, but still. She wanted attention, and what better attention could she ask for in this place?

The elevator came, and the moment the door were closed behind them, Stark was stepping to her. He stood near, but did not cage her against the wall as he muttered against her lips: “Let me rid you of the taste of that cheap stuff before you taste real quality.”

Loki closed the distance between them.

Stark had clearly been drinking the sparkling wine too, and some whiskey to boot, but he didn't seem very drunk, and the taste was pleasant on his lips, and on his tongue when it tentatively brushed over Loki's.

She opened her mouth wider, and in no time at all, she found herself with her back to the wall, and when the elevator arrived to its penthouse destination, it found her with her hand in the man's hair, panting slightly.

So far, this looked very promising.

It did not get less so as the night progressed.

Stark was, as it turned out, a very generous lover. When they came in, he picked up a bottle of champagne and some strawberries and took it all to the bedroom, where he fed the fruit to her in between languid kisses and sips of the drink. Once it was all gone, he became more intent, and almost reverent when he freed her breasts from the confines of her emerald dress. 

He then managed to get her off for the first time simply by lavishing attention on her nipples and pressing a thigh between her legs, making her – for the umpteenth time in her life – grateful she was actually a shapeshifter and did not merely use an illusion for this. 

Not even her first orgasm brought an end to Stark's consideration. He merely brought his mouth lower. 

By the time he did enter her, she already felt fucked out, but at the same time impatient. And also curious. 

Stark did not disappoint, getting the angle just right. This was a skill she particularly appreciated, given that it was applicable when she felt more like a man, too. Perhaps she should consider giving him a try like that, too…? 

He did not kick her out after sex, which was another plus. He merely quipped “I'm glad the champagne was satisfactory” - given her loud cries, he had no reason to doubt – and rolled off to sleep. 

-

In the morning, Loki woke feeling distinctly and indubitably like a man. 

His magic had sensed it and changed his form while he slept, so he was now very distinctly not the same as last night. 

He had planned to sneak out before Stark noticed, but as he shifted the man stirred next to him and opened his eyes. 

And blinked. 

“All right, I know I drank last night, but not that much. I remember bringing a woman to bed. Are you her evil twin, here to avenge her honour?”

Loki grinned at him, pleased by the lack of gay panic. “Not quite. And surely if I was here to avenge someone's honour, I wouldn't be evil?” 

“Eh,” Stark shrugged. “Morality depends on your point of view, and from mine, protectively patriarchal big brothers are definitely evil.” 

Loki liked him better and better. 

“But seriously, what happened?” Stark insisted. “Because you're really similar to the woman from last night, but…” 

After a short consideration, instead of answering, Loki took on the illusion of his last night's form just for a moment. 

“Wow,” Stark said. “That is so cool. So, are you a shape-shifting mutant?” 

“Something like that,” Loki replied, surprised. 

“You know,” Stark grinned, “there was no need to change into a woman to sleep with me.”

Loki's smile slid off his face and he began to extricate himself from the bed. “I assure you,” he said frostily, “that I did not change forms for your benefit.” 

Stark immediately put up his hands. “Whoa, sorry, bad joke. What I meant to say is, if you wanted a repeat performance in this form, I wouldn't be opposed at all.” 

Loki gave him a considering look. 

“What if I wanted to top?” 

Stark grinned. “Go right ahead.” 

And Loki, who incidentally did not want to top, not after last night's discoveries, was sold.

He did not regret his choice, and was just contemplating whether he could stay a little while longer and explore topping after all, when Stark said in a musing tone: “You know, you were good enough I’d almost consider a repeat performance at some point.”

Loki couldn’t help it, he started to laugh out loud.

“What?” Stark asked, sounding almost offended.

“Nothing...just, I was just thinking about precisely the same thing.”

Stark grinned a shark’s grin. “Well, we could always wait for a bit and go another round.”

“Indeed,” Loki said appreciatively. He considered offering his restorative magic, but honestly, Stark knowing he could shapeshift was probably quite enough. “What do you suggest we do in the meanwhile?”

Stark shrugged. “Drink?” He suggested.

Loki rolled his eyes. “You do not seem to have a very broad range of interests.”

“Hey, I’m perfectly willing to discuss advanced robotics or theoretical physics with you, but not sure if you’d be up for that!”

Loki plopped his head on his hand to give Stark a look. “Theoretical physics you said?” He asked with interest.

“What, you a physicist?” The man asked in surprise.

Loki shook his head. “Not exactly,” he said, in truth uncertain what English word Stark had used, as he was relying on All-Speak translations and knew that when it came to magic and magic-adjacent disciplines, these were notoriously unreliable on non-magical realms. “But I am, nevertheless, very interested. Did you have any particular topic in mind?”

Stark shrugged, looking a little dubious. “The particle collider in CERN should finally start its first run next year,” he said, as if trying to see what opening a topic like that would do.

In truth, this was a pleasant surprise to Loki. He’d been unaware Midgard had proceeded this far in its science. “Already?” He asked. “Do you know what they have planned for the first run?”

Stark squinted at him for a moment, then said: “Eh, you know how it is with test runs and all. They’re just going to be sending protons round.”

“That’s a little disappointing, is it not?” Loki did his best to remember his classes on the history of magical analysis, trying to think of what was the easiest step on these things, what the Asgardian scholars had discovered first. Oh, right. “Shouldn’t they try for a Higgs-Boson, at least?”

Stark blinked at him in surprise. “Of course they hope to find it,” he said after a moment. “That’s one of the first things they want to find, but...hardly on the test run, you know?”

Loki shrugged. He had no idea at all about that. “So how long will it take them, what do you think?”

Stark began to explain, and Loki settled on the bed next to him, half listening, half concentrating on the passage of time and trying to estimate when Stark would be ready to go again. Midgard was delightfully fast and full of surprises, but the humans were entirely too fragile to bear.

He interjected clarifying questions into Stark’s explanation from time to time, and by the time the man was finished, he was giving Loki a very curious look. “You don’t sound like a physicist, nor like an amateur enthusiast either,” he said, “but you sure as hell aren’t a total newbie. What gives?”

Loki shrugged, and decided that he didn’t feel like being cautious today after all. “My view of science is a little...different,” he said with a wicked smile, and conjured a model of the make-up of the universe as the Aesir understood it.

Stark stared. “All right,” he said after a moment. “How?”

“Magic,” Loki said casually.

“Bullshit,” Stark replied, sitting up in bed. “I can buy an X-gene mutation, that’s fine, there’s science behind that, but magic, if it worked, would just be sufficiently advanced technology.”

Loki blinked at him. “That makes no sense,” he pointed out. “Magic, in the most basic form, is produced by people. How would that be technology?”

“Well, the people would be using the technology, obviously,” Stark replied, looking at him like he was stupid.

Loki pointedly gestured along his naked body. “Do you see any technology?”

Stark grinned wolfishly at him. “Not sure – I’d need to check _very_ carefully.”

Ah. Apparently the time of readiness was now. Loki grinned back. “Take your pick,” he said. “Sex or magic explanations?”

Stark looked like he was being forced which of his two beloved children to kill. He pouted at Loki. “Why can’t I have both?”

“Because I don’t have unlimited time here, as enjoyable as your company is,” Loki said a bit regretfully.

Stark thought about it. “I feel like I should really say magic – seems like a more unique opportunity and all – but then again...did you by any chance change your mind about topping?” 

“As a matter of fact, I have,” and now Loki’s grin was very wide.

“Well.” Stark was suddenly straddling Loki in one swift move. “Maybe stop by some other time for that magic talk?”

“You know what?” Loki said, amazed at himself. “I actually might.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to have more chapters...eventually. For now, I’m letting it stand as it is (mayyybe with chapter 2 posted in the next few days), because I feel like it works and I absolutely cannot afford to start posting another multi-chaptered fic. (Do you hear it, muse? Can. Not. Afford.)


End file.
